Doll
by Clio S.S
Summary: The end of the third series is so perfect it makes me grind my teeth. Still, I can't really accept it, so here goes my version. Geneus and Shōri, Shōri and Geneus. No slash. Enjoy!


There was nothing here.

A perfect emptiness, devoid of light, warmth and life. It seemed familiar. After all, it had always been near, even if he couldn't touch it. It had been ringing in every word and lingering in every gesture. He had almost grown accustomed to it. He had almost believed there was no need to fear it.

After all, he was meant to fade away into nothingness.

Yet... there was something else here.

In the darkness surrounding him - or, maybe, the one he had become? - he could still _feel_. He had no arms nor legs, there was no heartbeat or breath - but he still existed.

And the pain hadn't ceased.

They had rejected him. Condemned him. Erased him. Called him a doll, a ghost and a futile regret. They had ridiculed his feelings and desires. The had told he had no right to exist. He had known them to be right - he'd known it best - but...

_Who in the world am I? Am I truly... nothing but a doll? Why was I ever born? Have the days I have lived meant nothing at all?_

Shinō had been his sense and purpose. Then and now. Always.

But Shinō had been looking at him like at a nuisance. No, he hadn't even looked at him. With his eyes, more blue than azure skies, he had been looking _through_ him, never really seeing him.

O pitiful doll who hath been composed to live thy life a lie. At the very least, thou shall return to nothingness by my hand.

He should have given up. He should have accepted that last grace devoid of any real feeling... but he couldn't. Those emotions filling the doll... He couldn't really count them all. Love. Hate. Regret. Hope. Devotion. Jealousy. He couldn't accept such an end.

He hadn't wanted to... disappear.

Now it didn't matter at all. He _had_ disappeared. He dwelt in the dark and emptiness he had always been meant to turn into... Only those feelings were still alive.

It shouldn't be like this. Was he really a creature cursed to never reach a peace? Was he to be tormented for eternity by the memories of the long lost beauty, the broken promises and unfulfilled tasks? Who ever deserved such a fate?

"Help...!" he wanted to call out in fear, pain and hopelessness.

He knew no-one would answer him. They'd never really seen him.

_Be okay._

For a split second, the emptiness brightened, a reflection of light under the eye-lids. As if someone was looking for him in the dark.

_Stay with me._

The impression of sudden warmth wouldn't leave. Someone was calling him. Someone... _him_?

A smile. And the darkness parted.

There was a memory of a smile - the only one he ever had. Once in a lifetime someone smiled at _him_. Maybe it was the reason he hadn't wanted to leave?

He tried to gather his dispersed thoughts... Concentrated... The emptiness was vibrating. It was no longer lifeless. It was wrapping him in a friendly manner and dragging him along. Ahead. Somewhere.

To the voice that suddenly seemed more real than anything else.

"... Really! All of them so wise! 'I created you, so I will put you to death.' My ass! What 'Your duty has been fulfilled, thanks, you may go.'? 'I will disappear alongside you,' what a sacrifice! It wasn't what he wanted to hear, you morons! Well, what else can be expected of the Mazoku...? Waste of nerves on them. But Yū-chan is another story... I though he matured and one could count on him, but it seems he still has a long way to go. Oh, I'll have a nice talk with him... 'Yū-chan, Onii-chan is very disappointed.' Really, what is with those people? They used him, discarded him and then had a contest for who was going to kill him...! They passed a sentence and were all happy. What a bunch of the idiots! Happiness can be find in living, not dying."

The world came into being anew. The warmth was a fact, the light appeared under the eyelids, and the rustle of water calmed down. He could breathe again.

"Shō-" His throat was dry, but he didn't give up, "Shō...ri... dono...?" he whispered.

Powerful Maryoku concentrated on him; the impression was almost palpable.

"You're awake...? How are you feeling? Want some water? Are you hurt?"

A whole litany, but he didn't focus on the words, only the voice, so indignant just a moment ago, and now...

"Shōri-dono..."

"Don't speak. You have yet to regain strength."

Strength? The life itself was pouring the strength in him. The smell of the forest was intoxicating. He opened his eyes and marvelled at the mosaic of leaves across the pale sky. He couldn't quite remember had he ever seen anything more beautiful. He levered himself up on the elbow, suddenly realizing he had a body and could feel every part of it.

"What are you doing? You shouldn't move yet."

He focused his gaze on the tall figure bathed in the sunlight. Shōri was bending over him, his face troubled. For a moment, he resembled... No. He was Shōri and no-one else.

"Why...?"

_Why am I alive? Why am I here? Where is here? What happened? What is going to happen now?_

He lay back down on the grass again and closed his eyes. Maybe it was better to stay in the ignorance and relish the moment? He remembered that the emptiness was always waiting.

"I couldn't let them kill you," the quiet voice rang in his reality. "It was not... fair. And not a right thing to do at all. I don't know how they could ever get the idea," the indignation was back, and it was so soothing. "They know nothing about you..."

He could listen to this voice for the whole eternity. Although, in fact, he wanted to say there was no need for Shōri-dono to care about him so much.

"But they do," he whispered. "I'm a copy of a real human. I'm a tool. I have no life on my own."

"Still..."

The voice trailed off, but the silence rang with what was left unsaid. He should feel anger, but - somehow - he could stand Shōri-dono's compassion. In his short life only Shōri-dono had ever looked at him and seen him. Shōri-dono's presence felt so... natural. With Shōri-dono he felt... better. He could be honest.

"And? What now?" he asked, his eyes still closed.

The buzz of bees and bumblebees was filling the silence. He couldn't tell whether it was more perfect sensation than the warm air smelling of the resin. He could die here, this time with no regrets. Once in a lifetime he was showed kindness. This realization eased the whole wrong done. The pain was disappearing.

"I know you need energy to live," Shōri said outright, and then he added, "at least, for now. It seems my Maryoku will do, so... Maybe you can stay with me?" he asked, his voice hesitant now. "I am not the Maō of Shin Makoku. And, definitely, I'm not the Shinō... God save me," he added, disgusted. "It's not much, but one day I'm going to be the Maō of the Earth, and... maybe you could help me then?"

He opened his eyes and blinked. It could be that he had already died since he was hearing such things. He sat up. Shōri was looking away, his profile proud, his hands trembling. Then Shōri turned his head and looked at him.

"Stay with me," he repeated. "Not as a tool or a remorse, but as a comrade. They may say what they want, but for me you are a real human." He stretched his hand - the gesture so well known from four thousand years ago, but... That chapter was finished. Now the new one was opening.

He looked Shōri in the eyes. The man blinked, but bore with his gaze. He was still stretching his hand and seemed so unsure whether it would be taken.

Maybe he really needed someone by his side? He was too kind for his own good.

There was always a threat Shōri would be bored with him and treat him as a burden, but... He could take a risk. And, in fact, there was no real choice at all. He was offered a life, one more breath and one more step. Besides... he was sure he could trust Shōri. Shōri was kind.

He took the hand. The trembling almost stopped. He stood up. He felt dizzy, but the tall figure was already there to support him.

"Then... if you feel okay, maybe we can go there right away?" came the modest proposal. "I'd rather not stay here any longer. I think they aren't very pleased with me..."

He nodded. His body was weak, but his spirit was ready for anything. He would think about it later - once he believed it was really happening. The strong arm embraced him. Shōri pressed him close, no hesitance in his movements and his Maryoku pulsating with power. Only after a moment he realized it was a joy.

"My world may seem strange to you at first," Shōri said enthusiastically, "but you will shortly get used to it. We will cut your hair a bit and find you a normal clothes," he went on, clearly excited. "You look slightly too... exotic," he explained. "Blast it, I've never opened the passage," he realized. "Well, I'm a future Maō, so I'll manage," he decided with new faith. "Ah, I think I have it. So, hold on to me. I'm here, you'll be all right. Don't worry."

Suddenly, he felt like smiling.

"I'm not going to," he said quietly, raising his eyes and looking at the swirling fog.

As they were crossing the dimensions, Shōri's Maryoku covering him like a warm cloak, he felt with an unwavering certainty that there would never be any need for him to be afraid. He had found his safe haven - a place he could call home.


End file.
